


Kissing To Be Clever

by flowersforgraves



Series: Boondock Fakes [2]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Biting, Crossover Pairings, Fake AH Crew, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: "Little fucker bit me!" Michael yells, pointing indignantly at Murphy.After the twins are back at the Fakes' place, Michael and Murphy have a conversation of sorts.





	Kissing To Be Clever

**Author's Note:**

> in case it's not apparent, I really love '80s bands and so yes, the title is after Culture Club's first album
> 
> -
> 
> This is a work of fiction depicting the GTA V personas of the Achievement Hunters. It is not meant to reflect anything about the real people themselves. Rooster Teeth does not have my permission to use this work in any content.

Michael pushes Murphy against the wall. “Don’t fucking bite me again, you little shit,” he says.

Murphy grins at him. “Sure? I can leave some nice marks on ya. There --” touches Michael’s collarbone “-- there --” walks his fingers up Michael’s neck “-- there.” His fingers stop at the soft spot under the corner of Michael’s jaw.

Michael swallows hard. “Shut up.” He realizes too late that Murphy still has his hand where he can feel his throat move, so even if he somehow hadn’t seen Murphy would still know how fucking _turned on_ Michael is. 

“Make me,” Murphy shoots back, and Michael didn’t think people _actually_ said that shit, but here they are and there are less than six inches between his lips and Murphy’s. 

_Fuck it,_ Michael thinks, and leans in. 

It’s a messy kiss, hardly deserving of the name. His teeth click against Murphy’s, lips and tongues pushing against each other as they struggle, and he pushes them further against the wall, both to trap Murphy and to keep himself upright. The salt of sweat and blood mingles in their mouths, and Murphy rucks up Michael’s shirt to get hands on bare skin.

They pull apart, and Murphy smiles up at Michael -- he’s about the same height, but he’s made himself smaller so they can kiss at an angle.

“You gonna suck me off in the hallway?” Michael asks, leaning even more to push Murphy further down.

“Do you want me to?” Murphy’s breathless and flushed red and he’s still fucking teasing. Michael wants to shut him up.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. I wanna fuck your mouth right here, right now.”

“‘Kay,” Murphy agrees easily. He drops to his knees, looks up at Michael. “I’m not taking your fuckin’ pants off for you. Drawing the line there.”

“Don’t blame you,” Michael says, undoing his belt. He gets his jeans and boxers halfway down his hips before Murphy is leaning forward, and _fuck_ if his mouth isn’t just as good between his legs as mouthing off. “Shit, Murphy,” he breathes. “If I’d known you were that desperate I’d have offered this sooner.”

Murphy hums against the inside of Michael’s thigh. He’s tracing around Michael’s dick, as if he’s exploring everywhere except where Michael wants him. He sits back on his heels, tips his head to the side, studying Michael with an uncomfortable intensity. It’s brief, though, and Murphy licks the drop of pre-come from Michael’s tip before he really starts.

“Fuck,” Michael says, because Murphy is doing _something_ with his tongue that he really really likes, and his left hand is busy with Michael’s balls while his right clenches in Michael’s jeans just above the knee. “Fuck,” he repeats, and Murphy takes him deeper. Michael grabs his hair, pulls hard until he can hear Murphy gasp, then twists his fingers into a more secure hold.

“Can I fuck your throat?” Michael asks, breathless, and he nearly sobs at the loss of contact as Murphy pulls back to answer.

“If you want to,” Murphy says, and _damn_ he looks good, lips red and hair a mess, so Michael nods and Murphy goes back to Michael’s cock.

It takes a second, but Murphy takes Michael as far into his mouth as he can, and then leans forward. “God, you’re fucking choking on it,” Michael says, almost awed as he feels Murphy’s throat working around his tip. It eases after a second, and Michael slides the rest of the way into Murphy’s mouth.

He moves his hips a bit, testing the waters. Murphy doesn’t seem to react, so he does it again, harder. And again. And again. It’s hard to stop now, because even though Michael is fucking his throat Murphy is still making quiet needy noises around his dick, and it feels good and Murphy is good and then Michael is coming, hands clenched in Murphy’s hair, cock shoved as far in as possible.

Murphy pulls off slow, working his tongue as he does. Michael doesn’t let go of his hair until well after he’s done, enjoying the sight of Murphy on his knees. “Wow,” he says.

Murphy smiles up at him. It’s a different smile now, less sharp and more _tired_. “Good?” he asks. His voice is raspy, and Michael thinks, _I did that._

“Really good,” Michael confirms. “Want me to do you?”

Murphy shakes his head. “No, I’m okay. If you want to kiss some more I can do that?” He’s unsure, now, far more than he had been earlier.

Michael nods. “Sure. Come on back to the room.” When his legs will move, he pulls his jeans back into place and unlocks the door they’d been standing next to.

“Fucking seriously?” Murphy asks. “We were _right here_ and you didn’t say anything?”

Michael shrugs. “Sorry. Slipped my mind.” And that’s not untrue either; he’d been so focused on Murphy’s fucking awful mouth it hadn’t occurred to offer his room.

Murphy huffs, and then his jaw drops when he sees Michael’s room. “What the _fuck,_ ” he says, less angry and more disbelieving. “Who the fuck -- you mean I could’ve been kneeling on a fucking three inch carpet rather than on the hallway tiles?”

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, and now he really does feel guilty, just a tad. “Let me make it up to you?” He gestures to the bed, with its pile of pillows and sea of comforter.

This time Murphy visibly balks. “I --”

“You don’t have to,” Michael hurries to add. “Just kissing is good, but I would rather not be on the floor.”

“Fair,” Murphy concedes, and then takes a running jump to land face first on Michael’s bed.

Michael smiles, pleased that Murphy is engaging so thoroughly. He drapes himself over the footboard as seductively as possible. “You said something about marks?”

Murphy nods, and pulls Michael onto the mattress. He’s surprised that Murphy doesn’t flip them over, put himself on top, but he accepts it, leaning in to get a proper kiss.

This time it’s less needy, less violent. Their lips actually make initial contact, and Michael pushes his tongue tentatively at Murphy’s mouth. Murphy opens, and lets Michael explore inside his mouth with his tongue. He’s fairly passive, and Michael pulls away to ask, “Do you -- is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Murphy says, and pushes himself up to capture Michael’s lips in another kiss. This time his hand comes up, pulls Michael down on top of him, and then he bites Michael’s lower lip, hard.

“Shit!” Michael jerks back, but he’s smiling. “Fuck, Murphy, do that again.”

Murphy obliges him, and this time Michael bites back. He’s rewarded by a hiss from Murphy, but he doesn’t get a chance to enjoy it before Murphy’s teeth are back, on his neck this time. It’s a hard bite; Murphy isn’t gentle about this in the slightest. It will definitely leave a mark tomorrow, showing the whole house he’d gotten lucky, and he loves it.

“I’m gonna mark you,” Michael informs him. Murphy nods, and Michael pulls down the collar of his shirt a bit to get at his shoulder. He bites too -- not quite as hard as Murphy had, but still enough to show -- and then sucks, leaving the darkest bruise he can.

Murphy leaves three or four more bites along Michael’s neck, then one on his collarbone -- _he did promise,_ Michael thinks vaguely -- and one in the same spot Michael had marked him. “I do have to leave, at some point,” he says, breathless.

“No you don’t,” Michael says. “No need for the walk of shame if you don’t wanna. Bed’s big enough for two.”

“Not unless you want Connor beating down your door,” Murphy replies. “He’s already pissed at me, so I should get back before he crashes for the night.”

“Ugh,” Michael says, rolling off Murphy. “I know that feeling. I used to room with Gav and if I wasn’t in the room by the time he went to bed I was shit outta luck.”

Murphy nods, standing up and stretching. “Thanks, Michael.”

“No problem,” Michael says automatically. Before he can ask what he’s being thanked for, Murphy is out the door in the darkness of the hallway.


End file.
